Bang
by CBloom2
Summary: Not sure why I called it this but a kind of a 'what if' tag to Two Minutes to Midnight. Contains sick Sam...of course.
1. Chapter 1

**So this is a kind of 'what if' on Two Minutes to Midnight. What if Pestilence did a little more damage than we first thought to Sam (because that's what I like to do).**

**Usual, don't own any of them (if only…)**

**It's not prize winning, but I would be grateful if you gave it a shot.**

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The echo from the gunshots filled the enormous warehouse. Sam and Bobby stood for a few seconds taking in the scene before them through the smoke. Suddenly a cry for help tore through the silence, "There's still people here," Sam said, urgently, his voice cracking slightly. He glanced quickly at Bobby, "Sam, no…"

Sam turned to face his old friend, then took the knife out of the waistband of his jeans and handed it to Bobby, "Wait here," he ordered. As he spun round and lifted the gun up, he couldn't help a cough that escaped from him. This damn cough had been plaguing him for the last few days, and it was showing no signs of going away. If anything it seemed to be getting worse. But he couldn't think of that now, he had a job to do, he had people to save.

Bobby took the knife but didn't fail to notice the cough and the slight sheen of perspiration on Sam's forehead. There was something going on with the kid, but he wasn't sharing. Bobby held the knife up in a defensive position. He started when he heard a couple of gunshots. He brought his gun up when he heard running footsteps. He realised, in time, that it was Sam and some civilians that were running to safety, "Go!" He shouted at the terrified people. Sam began to cough again, this time doubling over trying to drag some air in, "Sam…?" Bobby tried.

Sam waved his concern away and took off back into the fray. Bobby couldn't help the knot of worry that had formed in his stomach. The kid was obviously not well, he was struggling, but he kept ploughing back into the warehouse. A noise behind him broke him out of his thoughts, and without thinking, he turned and plunged the knife into the unsuspecting demon. Before he knew it, Sam was back with more people, "All clear," he practically wheezed out. Bobby nodded, glad that they could get this finished and get back home, especially with the state that Sam was in. He was brought out of his relief by a streak of colour, "Sam!" He yelled a warning.

Too late! A demon had launched himself at Sam taking the younger man to the floor. He was straggling the hunter, choking the life out of him. Bobby's gun decided to jam just at the wrong moment. As Sam could almost see his life passing before his eyes, he noticed the business end of a shotgun making its presence known, and then the demons face was no more.

Castiel took a step back and looked at the gun, "Hmm I see they have their uses…"

Sam looked at the angel with shock evident on his face. Bobby was impatient, "Great! So can we commit our little act of domestic terrorism…"

Bobby leaned over and offered Sam his hand to help him up. Sam took the offered hand gratefully and pulled himself up onto unsteady feet.

A few hours later, Sam was pacing up and down Bobby's dark porch. The sun had gone down about half an hour ago, causing the day to lose most of its warmth, but that didn't matter to Sam. He was waiting for Dean. Sam began coughing again. The cough was really getting on his nerves now. There was no reason to still be coughing…unless…Pestilence had done more damage that was first thought. The thought had crossed Sam's mind but he dismissed it. He didn't have time for it.

His thoughts were broken by the familiar rumble of the Impala. As his brother exited the car, Sam mentally checked him for any signs of injury. As Dean walked wearily up the steps, he saw Sam and smiled, "I'm good Sam."

Sam nodded as he tried to stifle another cough. Dean, though, being the big brother noticed immediately, "Have to say bro, you don't look so hot though. You ok?"

Sam sighed, "Just a cough that won't go away, but I'll be good. Can't afford not to be – there's too much riding on this plan to trap Lucifer."

Dean humphed. He took hold of Sam's arm and began to lead him into the house, "Come on, I smell food."

When they got to the table, Bobby had already plated up the meal. Dean sat and attacked it like he always attacked any sort of food. Bobby ate quickly, but cleanly…unlike Dean. Cas looked at the food quizzicly but ate it all the same and Sam just played with his food. He really felt quite bad at that moment. His head was pounding, he couldn't stop the coughs and he was sure that if he tried to eat anything, he would promptly bring it back.

"So Death just gave you the ring?" Bobby asked incredulously.

"Pretty much," Dean answered, unable to look him in the eye.

"So what's the catch?" Sam enquired, whist unsuccessfully trying to stifle a cough.

"Sam, you sure you're ok?" said Dean, noticing again how pale and sweaty his brother looked.

"Don't change the subject Dean. What's the catch?" Sam demanded, causing the pounding in his head to make him close his eyes.

Dean's forehead creased with concern, but he left him alone, for now.

"No catch. He wants to be rid of Lucifer, just like us."

Bobby and Cas glared at Dean, knowing full well that he wasn't telling the whole truth, but Dean wasn't looking at them, he was watching his brother, who was massaging his temples, "Why don't you go and get some rest Sam," he suggested.

Sam opened his eyes with a start, unaware that he'd been watched, "I can't, we've got a job to do…"

"Come on, you're obviously sick, you need your rest."

"Dean I'm fine!" Sam snapped, causing Bobby and Cas to glance his way.

Sam was painfully aware of their looks, but the bottom line was that he didn't have time to be sick, even though his body wasn't co-operating with that line of thinking. He suddenly felt like he needed to get away from their concern, so he got up and began clearing the table. An uneasy silence settled in the room which Sam felt like he should break, "So what now?"

The other occupants of the room looked round at each other, "I got nothing," Dean replied, "You're the one with the plan."

"If Sam is going to go ahead with his plan, we need some blood," Castiel stated matter of factly.

"Whoa, wait a minute, you mean…demon blood?" Dean asked, suddenly liking this plan even less.

The angel just nodded.

"You've got to be kidding me! We've only just…" Dean jumped up and stormed into Bobby's 'study', Bobby and Cas following in his wake.

Sam, however, didn't have the energy to get involved in the heated debate. He knew what he had to do – that was enough for him. So he started stacking plates to take to the kitchen. He felt a pain in his chest again, as another cough rattled through him. Maybe he would take a pill and go to sleep after all. He got about half way into the kitchen area when a coughing fit overtook him without any warning. So quick and brutal was the spasm that Sam couldn't hold onto the plates any longer. They fell to the ground with a crash, quickly followed by the younger Winchester. He was coughing so badly that he could barely draw breath…


	2. Chapter 2

"Dean, Sam knows about what he has to do…about the blood," Cas was still trying to convince his young friend.

"Oh come on Cas! We've just been through hell with this, and now you want him to drink more?"

Cas sighed, "I'm afraid it may be the only way…"

Bobby looked over at the two men sadly as Dean scrubbed a hand over his face. Suddenly the uneasy silence was shattered by a loud crash, followed by a round of hacking coughs.

Dean dashed towards the kitchen, "OMG Sam! What the hell…"

Bobby and Cas followed quickly and gasped at the sight that met their eyes. Sam was slumped on the floor, surrounded by broken porcelain, trying desperately to pick up the pieces whilst seemingly coughing up a lung, all at the same time.

Dean crouched in front of him, "Sammy?" he whispered. He placed a hand on his brother's back, trying to cover his shock when his siblings pale face and bloodshot eyes looked up at him. Sam was still struggling to get a proper breath into his lungs, which worried Dean immensely. How could he have not have seen how sick his little brother was getting. Sam tried to pull himself up, whilst still trying to clear up the broken plates; "Mmm sorry Bobby – will replace them…" he broke off as a cough overtook him yet again. This time, though, when he brought his hand away from his mouth, he was dismayed to notice small specks of blood in his hand. He tried to cover it up quickly, but Dean was quicker, "Sam…"

"I'll be ok Dean," Sam croaked.

Bobby bent down to look at Sam, "Don't worry about the plates you idjit," he said kindly, while he was gently placing a hand on the young man's forehead. He glanced over at Dean, "He's burning up Dean," he stated. Dean nodded as he started to rise, pulling Sam up with him. He flung one of his brothers' arms over his shoulder, "Come on Sam, let's get you to bed."

As they supported the weakened man on his journey to the bed, Sam had another coughing fit, "Ugh" he groaned, as the coughing had caused the pain in his head to spike.

Dean caught Castiel's concerned eyes, "I think Pestilence did more damage than we first realised," he offered.

"Ya think?" Dean countered, as he helped his brother sit on the bed that Bobby used to use before he got his legs back.

Sam was propped up with his eyes closed, trying to catch his breath, "We can't sit here Dean," Sam started breathlessly, "We've got to get our act together…we've got to get Lucifer…"

Dean put a hand on Sam's forehead, shocked to find that he had begun to feel tears form in his eyes, "Sam, you've been through a lot, you're weakened…you've got to get strong again or… Lucifer will get you".

Sam grasped his brother's wrist, "I'll be strong enough Dean…I will," he insisted.

"I know you will Sam…but now you need to rest," Dean ordered.

Sam looked, for a moment, like he was going to argue again, but he lost the battle to keep his eyes open, and quickly fell into a laboured sleep.

"Dean," Bobby started.

Dean turned to face his friends, "I'm staying with him."

Both of them nodded their understanding and made their way to bed.

Dean sat quietly in the darkness, watching his little brother sleep. A small, sliver of moonlight illuminated Sam's face, causing it to seem paler than it already was before. The eerie silence was broken by a series of coughs emanating from the sleeping form. Dean placed a hand on his brothers' cool arm, which caused Sam to settle almost immediately, "Dean…" came a rough whisper, "I'm sorry…"

Dean shook his head, sadly. He couldn't bring himself to say anything as emotions began to assail him.

The following morning dawned bright and warm. Bobby moved through the kitchen quietly setting the coffee machine going, then he reached for the bread. As he poked his head around the door, he was surprised to Sam alone, still fast asleep in almost the exact same position that he had left him in the previous night. He made his way over to the sick young man and gently reached out to feel his forehead. He was pleased to note that Sam felt cooler than he had the night before. Sam mumbled in his sleep, obviously disturbed by Bobby's delicate touch. Bobby decided that he would go and look for his brother. He grabbed a couple of mugs of coffee and made his way through the junk yard.

He found Dean fairly quickly, as he hadn't gone too far away from the house. He was sat at one of the work benches playing around with the rings. Bobby set down the mugs in front of him, then pulled up another stool, "Sam seems better this morning…" he stated, as he took a drink of the coffee.

Dean nodded, "Yeah, he's finally resting quietly."

"Which is more than can be said for you" Bobby replied, gruffly.

Dean could help but smile at the concern in his friends' voice.

"Hey Bobby, watch this…"

Dean pulled the rings away from each other. Then he let them go. Three of the rings were pulled towards Death's ring as if by some invisible force. Bobby gasped, he then reached his hand out to touch them, but he thought better of it, "Don't touch it Frodo…" Dean joked, allowing a small smile to grace his lips. Bobby shook his head and smiled ruefully, "So Death… he gave you the instruction manual?"

"Yeah, the works! May not make any difference…"

What do you mean Dean?" Bobby studied the young mans worn out features.  
"Sam seems to think that he can do this…I'm not so sure" Dean replied, feeling a little guilty that he was even thinking like this.

Bobby sat up straight, "You know Dean, when we were in that warehouse, Sam…well he wouldn't leave anyone behind. That kid pulled out one civilian after another out of there – he never stopped! He was sick, and we both knew it, but that didn't stop him. He wouldn't let it!"

"What are you trying to say Bobby?" Dean asked, not really sure if he wanted to know the answer.

"I'm saying that Sam knows what he's doing. He's got a darkness in him, we all know that, but he's got a hell of a lot of good in him. He'll beat the devil…or die trying!" Bobby insisted.

"I know," whispered Dean.

"I've got to ask Dean, what _are _you afraid of – losing or losing your brother?"

Dean looked up sharply at his old friend, tears pooling in his eyes, "What do you think?" He asked angrily. He then took a deep breath to try to steady his emotions, "I know me and Sam have had some issues lately, and God knows we can't afford to lose this battle…but…he's my brother. I raised him. I can't lose him Bobby. God help me, even after everything – I love him to damn much to lose him!" Dean stopped short as he noticed that his friend was now looking over his shoulder. He turned round slowly to see a very weak, ashen looking Sam, leaning on one of the old car shells to help him stay upright.

Dean, seeing the state his brother was in, immediately jumped off his seat and quickly crossed the space between himself and Sam, "Sammy you should be resting."

Sam gave him a weak smile, "I knew you'd say that!"

At that moment Bobby decided to leave the boys to it. Sam smiled at him as he walked past him, causing Bobby to tap his arm affectionately.

When Sam was sure that Bobby had gone, he looked at his brother long and hard, "You know it works both ways Dean…"

"You heard…" Dean looked down at his feet, obviously uncomfortable with the moment.

"Dean…"

Dean looked up, knowing full well that his eyes mirrored Sam's shiny eyes, full of unshed tears, "Hell I just thought that Bobby needed a moment…" he tried to joke.

Sam actually laughed a little at that, "You really are a jerk…"

Dean looked up, shocked to hear his brother using an old nickname at this time. Seeing Sam with a smile on his face made Dean's heart soar. He flung an arm around his not so little brother, "At least I'm not a bitch!"

Sam threw his head back and laughed for all he was worth. Dean found himself joining in, until Sam's laughing dissolved into coughs again. Dean tightened his hold on his brother and began to lead him back to the house…back to their plan to trap the devil.

But for just that one moment it felt good to be brothers again!

**Hope it was ok. Would love to hear your opinions. Be honest, but not brutal as that would make me cry!**


End file.
